


Good Kid

by sunflowershayne



Series: mcu (mandon cinematic universe) [3]
Category: Smosh
Genre: Angst, Closeted Character, Drug Use, High School, Love/Hate, Lowercase, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Recreational Drug Use, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sloppy Makeouts, Teen Angst, Underage Smoking, delinquency
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 15:35:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19444387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowershayne/pseuds/sunflowershayne
Summary: "but now that i think about it / you'd be fine without it / but tell me baby, where's the fun in that?"Brandon finally reunites with his former best friend, but it's not under the circumstances he thought it would be.





	Good Kid

it's maybe 9:30 at night, and Brandon is catching up on the jog that he'd missed earlier that morning. sleeping in was never usually a problem for him -- he was almost implausibly punctual -- so for him to have slept through the two alarms he had set for himself... that was unheard of.

his heartrate is mapped on his watch, and he watches the number to make sure that it stays the same. that's a good thing, he thinks. (at least, he was told it was. coach Johnson always told him, "keep it high and keep it consistent," and the number is pretty solidly in both of those categories.)

as he continues his route, he notices something that he hasn't seen while walking this way before, jog or otherwise. he spots a flickering light, blinking in code as if to tell him to go investigate. his friend Malik would almost instantly call him out for that behavior, citing it as the main reason that if he were a horror movie character, he would almost definitely die first.

his mind jogs at the same pace he does, and he ignores the flaring signal of tingles underneath his skin and decides to check it out for himself.

when he gets close enough, the flickering light starts to illuminate a face; Brandon can barely make out who it is, but it seems so familiar. there's a voice attached to the flashing image, and they mumble under their breath about how their lighter isn't working (at least, that's what Brandon gathers in between whispered exclamations of "shit" and "fuck").

Brandon tries his best to be quiet. he doesn't dare think to try and provoke the person. despite their seeming familiarity, they could easily try and kill him or otherwise hurt him if they suspected him of trying to get the jump on them. his footsteps are quick and light, and he makes sure to avoid pieces of the cement that are cracking or covered in glass. this is a really bad part of town, and he should definitely not be here, but he's here anyway. his mother did always say that his curiosity was going to kill him someday, and it looked like this could be the time and place that it decided to creep up on him.

finally, the flame sparks to life and stays burning, and the light is just enough to where Brandon is able to make out certain features of the person holding the lighter. he has a strong jaw and a smattering of dark stubble across his chin. the shape of his little grin of victory as he reaches into his pocket is similar to the cat smiles that Brandon's ex-girlfriend Amanda used to put at the end of her texts to him.

he's fucking gorgeous, and Brandon still thinks so even after he puts the end of a cigarette to the flame.

the scent of nicotine fills the air, and wafts into Brandon's nose, strong enough to make him cough.

"who's there?" the voice asks, unwavering. Brandon doesn't realize that he's been found out at first, and admires the way that the other boy isn't scared by the sudden noise for a moment before immediately dodging behind a dumpster to avoid his gaze.

there's a long beat of silence before he hears the boy take a puff of smoke and exhale. his lungs rattle with a cough as he ingests the chemicals into his body. Brandon makes sure to stay behind the dumpster for a while, to make sure that he doesn't scare him again.

after another puff, Brandon moves back into the open, and finds himself looking right at the shadow of the boy. the shadow looks back.

"I knew you were there," he says, taking another swift drag of his cigarette. "you can come closer, you know."

without even thinking about it, Brandon finds himself floating towards him. something about the way that the boy spoke commanded him to get closer.

he’s finally close enough to see the boy’s face, and he smells the nicotine in the air even more. he knows why the boy seemed familiar now, and as he gets as close as he can, he whispers his name into the chilly autumn air.

“M... Marcus…?”

the words form breathlessly from his lips, and his mouth stays open a crack as he reads Marcus’s face.

Marcus had used to be Brandon’s best friend in middle school. they had been thick as thieves, and had even been considered the two closest people in the entire class. while Marcus had always been socially withdrawn, Brandon had been one of the very few people that got him to come out of his shell, even a little. as their middle school career came to an end, however, Marcus had started getting into more and more delinquent behavior. they had eventually stopped talking to one another, because Brandon was slowly starting to become a relatively popular and gifted athlete.

hanging out with Marcus was a risk to his health, and his financial situation dictated that his athleticism was the most likely path for him to get to go to college.

and now, after three years, he was seeing Marcus again, in a dark alleyway, in the bitter chills of October, late at night, with nothing but cold air and cigarette smoke between them.

Marcus takes another drag and blows the smoke close to Brandon’s face, but not directly at him. the breeze drifts right next to his ear, and he shudders.

he looks rough. there are bags under his eyes that weren't there before, and stubble lines his jaw, along with a bandaid, that Brandon assumes he got from cutting it too close while he was shaving. not to mention the way that the tiny roll of tobacco shakes in his hand as he puts it to his lips, or the way that his hair is longer, shaggier, more unkempt underneath a black hoodie. his skin is more translucent, sickly, almost unbearably so. Brandon feels a pang in his heart as he sees how the past three years have been to his former friend.

"in the flesh and blood. how have you been, golden boy?" he asks, his voice deeper and throatier than the melodic and soothing tone from Brandon's memories.

"well, I'm on a jog. I missed my morning schedule today, so I'm making up for it right now. I figured I might as well. been trying to monitor my heart rate, coach Johnson said that better results come when you keep it the same."

a breathy laugh escapes Marcus's throat, and he flicks the ash off the end of his cigarette before responding. "damn, sorry I broke that streak for you. but it's good to hear that at least one of us is staying on the wagon. technically, I shouldn't be out here smoking. I was given a 10 minute break from work, I should be heading back."

Brandon forgets his tact as he retorts, "how long ago was that?"

without hesitation, Marcus answers. "20-ish minutes ago."

that elicits a quiet, albeit nervous, laugh out of the shorter boy. Marcus had always been a procrastinator. hearing that he had a job in the first place was actually surprising to him. he wanted to ask him where he worked, and if they were accepting job applications. thoughts of saying _I've missed you, man, where have you been? have you come out to your family yet? do they know about how you used to start sneaking out late at night to come to my room and kiss me?_ started spiraling more and more, and Brandon felt the urge to shake his head physically, as if trying to shake them out of his mind.

he does, however, ask, "where are you working at, man?"

"I'm a fry cook at Burger King right now. the money's shit, but it's still money."

"are they accepting? money's a bit tight right now, my dad's sick this week and can't do any overtime work."

the brunet blows a smoke cloud toward Brandon, and he says, "why are you interested in where I work? you're clearly not interested in hanging out with me anymore."

that thought shocked Brandon. "what? I never said that I didn't want to talk to you anymore. I *do,* but I can't hang around cigarette smoke for too long. I'm relying on that football scholarship to get me my psychology degree, and secondhand smoke kills faster than actual smoking does, you know-"

Marcus drops his cigarette to the ground and stomps on it, moving closer to Brandon. what had previously been about 3 feet of distance between them was now halved. he blows the smoke from his last breath into the blond's face, and it stings against his skin.

"cut the shit, Brandon. we both know that's just an excuse for the real reason you stopped hanging out with me. you were scared because I wanted to tell my family about us."

Brandon feels the wind escape his lungs. _of course he was scared, why wouldn't he be? what if Marcus's family wasn't accepting, and told his dad? what if his dad wasn't accepting either, and left him alone to fend for himself? how would be be able to survive? what if Marcus had decided that he wasn't worth it after that and left him?_

"y-yeah, I was scared. but that doesn't mean that's the reason why I stopped talking to you."

Marcus takes another step closer, the distance between them now less than a foot. mere inches separate Brandon from the boy he had once loved (or at least thought he had loved) and had now lost. Brandon looks up into Marcus's deep hazel eyes, trying to find words to say, but none come to his mind.

"and? are you scared now?"

Brandon's initial answer is _fucking, yes, of course I'm scared. you're invading my personal space and grilling me on why we stopped talking to each other, and the answer to your question isn't good enough for you._ but instinctively, impulsively, his head shakes no.

another wheezy, rattly chuckle resonates from Marcus. "good answer."

and, in another impulsive act, Brandon reaches forward, grabs either side of the taller boy's face, and leans into him, kissing him. their noses bump together on impact, but the pain isn't enough to outweigh the desperate want that Brandon has for this. he's been hiding for far too long, and, despite being in a dark alleyway, hidden from most people, this is the most public he's ever been about his not-so-heterosexuality.

Marcus hums against his lips, and the sensation tickles, but there's no way that Brandon wants to break away. it's been three years since he last kissed him, and even though he tastes like smoke, he still feels like home.

there's a silence in the air that feels surreal, almost impossible, and it's perfect for them. a million thoughts race through Brandon's head, neurons firing at a mile a minute, but he refuses to answer any of their questions. Marcus's arms wrap themselves around Brandon's waist, and he's warm in a way that's distinctly different from the way that Brandon is warm.

between kisses, Brandon catches a glimpse at his heart monitor, and finds that his pulse is about as high as it was when he was running.

when the two finally break away, Brandon feels like he's been put through the wringer. there's not the same sweetness or gentle naivete that there was three years ago. there's not the same feeling of lingering stares and hidden hand-holding. this isn't so much a slow returning crush as it is a crashing wave of regret and passion that was still there from those many years of longing and reminiscing.

"see? I'm not all that scary." Marcus has a sly smile on his face. Brandon has half a mind to kiss it off of him.

and so he does. and he does it again. and again.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr @sunflowershayne for some top notch shitposts
> 
> or follow me on twitter @damimem for some top notch sporadic tweets


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